Over Again
by V. Emily
Summary: Deeks has been rescued from Sidorov, but it's clear from the start that things won't be the same again. Kensi must move past her fear that Deeks will become like Jack as a result of his PTSD, and must learn how to help her partner cope with his trauma - and maybe fix their relationship in the process. Densi. Post-"Descent." Angst, with healing. Rated T for references to torture.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't you love how I keep saying I'm going to start writing more fanfiction, and then I disappear for like three to eight months at a time? Because I don't.**

**Anyway, I don't really have any excuses to offer you all, other than that I just didn't really **_**want **_**to write fanfiction. That's not a great excuse. But I've been Beta-reading some great stories lately (shameless promotion for "Uncovered" by DatJoyBlue) and it made me feel left out. So here I am. Making my "comeback." Again.**

**But you came here for fanficiton, not lengthy author's notes! This piece is going to be a few chapters long, and it picks off where the latest season finale left us. Lots of angst, some healing, and of course (my favorite) a lot of Densi. If this premise has been done before, I apologize, but I've read about zero post-finale stories, so I don't know what's been written. Please let me know if you've seen this storyline somewhere else so I can try and make this one more unique.**

**As always, thanks for being my readers.**

**Let's get this started! **

** -V.**

**(Disclaimer: I haven't been off negotiating a deal with Shane Brennan. Really. I've just been gone.)**

* * *

Everyone was okay.

That was the only thing Kensi could say to herself as medical babble filled her ears and every bump in the road send pain coursing through her.

Everyone was okay.

It was might've been a lie, for all she knew, but for now it seemed like a safe statement. Michelle, riding in the ambulance with her, was bruised and weary, but other than that, she was fine. Callen had checked in with her, he was fine. Hetty was Hetty, she was fine. Nell and Eric, both fine. And Kensi, her head hurt like mad, but she knew she was fine (or at least _would _be).

That left Sam and Deeks, the two big unknowns. Since the big fight that had left Michelle dangling from a window, Kensi hadn't heard anything about them. But then again, any updates regarding the case had been kept from her - she was on her way, after all, to the hospital, nursing a head injury that she'd sustained while rescuing Michelle. Everyone was assuring her it wasn't that serious, and yet, here they were in an ambulance.

After a few painful eons, they finally arrived at the hospital. Everything happened in increasingly slow motion, the colors of sterile white and ugly hospital teal blending together in an unattractive blur.

Everyone was okay.

* * *

Hours passed, of which Kensi remembered both too much and too little. The cataclysmic throbbing in her head, she remembered too much of. The actual details of the evening, too little. Faces flashed by her as if she was paging through a photo album: unfamiliar doctors, Michelle, a random agent from the OSP, her mother. All of them spoke empty words and gave her empty instructions. The pain creeping up from the back of her neck made it too loud for her to hear them.

Eventually, time and morphine lessened the hurt that demanded her full attention. It was during a timeless hour of the night that she awoke, and a long while after that, a short woman appeared in the doorway of Kensi's hospital room.

"Hey, Hetty," Kensi murmured, still trying out her voice.

"Miss Blye," said Hetty tonelessly as she walked with purpose to Kensi's bedside. "The nurses informed me that you were awake. I trust you're feeling better?"

"Yeah," she said, only partly telling the truth. "I'll be fine. What's been going on? Did they get Sidorov yet?"

"They have," said Hetty, nodding. Kensi sighed and her shoulders slumped; finally, relief.

Hetty continued, "We still have quite a mess on our hands. But that's our job."

"To clean things up," Kensi said dutifully. "How are Deeks and Sam? I didn't hear anything about them before the fight with Sidorov's guys."

The memory of that kiss slapped her in the face, and she inhaled sharply. There had been too much going on to process Deeks's actions, so she'd done her best to shove the kiss aside, but now...

Hetty no doubt noticed Kensi's sudden revelation, but she chose to ignore it.

"Your partner Mr. Hanna faced difficulties capturing Sidorov," she said. Kensi snapped to attention. "They were taken captive and interrogated."

A chill prompted goosebumps up Kensi's arms. "You got them back, didn't you?" she asked, feeling a bit like a child as she hung on Hetty's answer.

"We did," said Hetty. "But Sidorov is a no-nonsense man, Miss Blye. They were badly injured. Sam was released from the ICU an hour ago and is getting some well-deserved rest down the hall."

"Where's Deeks?" Kensi asked. Panic began to overpower her pain medication. "...Hetty? Where is he? When can I see him?"

"He is being treated," Hetty told her. "He's not responding well to what has happened tonight. Mr. Deeks has been through a lot of trauma. Physically, he needs patching up; however..."

"You're worried about the long-term," Kensi guessed. "PTSD."

"It is clear that he has never been through something this traumatic before," Hetty said. "I am afraid that it may be a while before our Mr. Deeks is back to his old self."

They talked absentmindedly for a while after that, but Kensi's thoughts had moved on to examining the eerie parallels presented before her.

PTSD meant more to her than it did to most.

Christmas mornings.

Empty living rooms.

Tears.

Engagement rings slipped off of fingers.

PTSD had turned Jack into someone she didn't know, someone she didn't like, and ultimately, it had taken him away from her. This couldn't happen to Deeks, too. It _couldn't._

When Hetty left, Kensi let herself cry. That kiss this afternoon couldn't be the end of their partnership as they'd known it. She'd barely had time to interpret that, and now there was this.

Somewhere in this hospital, trauma was changing her partner into someone different.

Everyone was not okay.

* * *

**Yay comebacks! What'd you think of the first chapter? **

** I promise I'll post more ASAP. **

**-V.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the great first-chapter response, you guys! I'm feeling motivated today (also I have important things to do that I'd like to avoid), so here's another chapter for you! Enjoy. :)**

** -V.**

* * *

It was two days before she could see him.

Between her injuries and his, time didn't allow for any visits. Kensi got off with a minor gash on the back of her skull and a concussion, and was sent home the day after her conversation with Hetty. Deeks, however, was in much worse condition - at least, that's what the doctors said, when Kensi asked them. No one but medical staff had seen him since he was brought in after the rescue.

Kensi spent most of her time at home watching TV and waiting for that saving call to come from the hospital, that call from Hetty, a doctor, _someone _telling herthat she could visit her partner. Even an update on his condition would've been nice. But she heard nothing all day, leaving her with little else to do besides loiter around the house and think of him.

Then, the next morning, the loud ringing of Kensi's mobile phone forced her awake. The shock very nearly sent her toppling from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch, and her concussion seemed to magnify the generic ringtone a thousand times. She groaned, clutched her head in pain, and grabbed for the phone, desperate to stop the blaring sounds.

She muttered an unintelligible string of words as a greeting, and Callen's voice answered.

"Kens?" he said.

She shot to attention, wincing. Callen's voice wasn't much better than that awful ringing. Everything was too loud this morning. But the fact that he was calling her filled her with the enticing promise of good news, so she said eagerly in response, "They're awake?"

"Sam is," said Callen, who was obviously exhausted but happy. "He's not walking yet, but I just talked with him."

"Thank God," said Kensi. She shared in his relief, though she was disappointed that Deeks wasn't up yet. "I'll be down there as soon as I can. Has Michelle seen him?"

"She was the first one there when he woke up," Callen answered.

"So how's he doing?" asked Kensi, hauling herself off the couch and making her way to the bathroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror - hair, knotted and unkept; face, stained with yesterday's makeup that she hadn't removed; clothes, wrinkled and pleading to be changed. Kensi quickly went back into the living room, not wanting to look at her reflection anymore.

"He's fine," said Callen. "He's gonna need some time, but the doctor says he'll pull through."

"Already knew that," said Kensi with a small smile. "He's Sam."

"Yeah."

After a long pause, during which Kensi perched on the arm of a stuffed chair, Callen added, "I'm sure Deeks'll be awake soon."

"I hope so."

"...Come see Sam, and then we'll go get breakfast or something."

Kensi furrowed her brow, startled at Callen's sudden generosity. He was a great guy, but not the "then we'll go get breakfast or something" type. Then again, this was a type-changing kind of week; Kensi didn't feel quite like herself lately, either.

After agreeing to breakfast, she hung up and proceeded to clean herself up as well as she could. She didn't put too much effort or time into her makeup, rushing through her routine so she could get down to the hospital. In hindsight, she'd probably applied just a little too much eyeliner, but the good thing about hospitals is that no one will ever correct flawed makeup.

Twenty minutes later, she was stepping into Sam's room, where Michelle sat at his bedside. Sam looked as weary as Callen had in the waiting room when Kensi had seen him a couple of minutes ago. The ex-SEAL was covered head to toe in angry-looking bruises, and he looked like someone had drained all the energy right at him.

_He looks awful_, thought Kensi.

"Hey, big guy," she said aloud, leaning against the door frame. Sam smiled.

"Hey, Kens," he said. "Sorry about Deeks. G said he's not up."

"Not yet," said Kensi, looking towards the floor to hide the tears that had rushed to her eyes. Where had that come from?

"Sorry," Sam said again with sincerity. "I didn't mean for you to-"

"No, no, I'm good," she lied, but the lump in her throat betrayed her.

"I know that mutt means a lot to you." Sam tried to lighten the mood a little, and while it might've worked any other day, it was clear that today wasn't a day to poke fun at Deeks.

At Sam's words, Kensi's thoughts had shifted back to the kiss, the very place she'd tried to keep them from during her day at home. As she remembered the pleasant shock that had coursed through her, she felt a blush was forging its path up her neck, but there wasn't much she could do to cover it up. Sam could tell that she was uncomfortable, so he spoke again to break the silence.

"Deeks was a hero in that warehouse," he said softly. "He didn't give us up."

"He's hurt pretty bad," Kensi said, a couple of embarrassing tears rolling down her cheeks and neck.

"Yeah. ...I don't give him credit. I know I like to make fun of that haircut - " he chuckled and shook his head. " - but Deeks held his own against Sidorov. He's scrawny, and he's annoying, and most days I'd just like to punch him in his stupid face - especially when he looks at you like you're the Mona Lisa or something - but he's a good cop. And he saved our butts back there."

She wiped the tears from her eyes and made a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "That's my partner," she said, voice shaky.

Sam looked directly into her eyes. "Kensi, listen, he's gonna be fine. Go eat something. Take your mind off all of this."

"I was going to have breakfast with Callen later,"she remembered.

"Yeah, then do that."

"Right," she said hesitantly. She hated this hospital, but was still uncomfortable leaving it. What if Deeks woke up while she was gone? However, seeing the insistent look in Sam's eyes, she made herself shake off the idea.

"All right. Sam, it's really good to see you awake. I'll be back in like an hour, okay?"

"Okay," said Sam. "Make sure G doesn't eat too much bacon. He can get crazy when I'm not there to be his conscience."

* * *

Kensi had never been to this diner before, which was good. She and Deeks had stopped at so many places for breakfast before that she'd been positive Callen would take her to one of the places they'd been. And she did not care to be reminded of Deeks any more than necessary at the moment. It was bad enough that she had that kiss in the forefront of her mind all the time. Going someplace she could connect to Deeks would undoubtedly put her over the edge, and Kensi definitely didn't want to cry in front of Callen. How awkward.

Speaking of awkwardness, there was a lot of it hanging over the pair of agents as they ate.

It wasn't like they were uncomfortable with each other or anything (after all, they'd worked together for a few years now). It was more like neither of them could think of something appropriate so say, so they just ate their food. For a long time, the only sounds passed between them were the scraping of forks on plates and the quiet *thunk* of water glasses being put back down on the table.

Callen ordered bacon. Kensi didn't stop him.

It wasn't until they were walking out of the parking lot that anything of interest happened. Kensi had felt herself weakening with every minute - she was just so tired, in so much pain, so impatient for Deeks to come back, and most of all, so scared that maybe he wouldn't _really _ever be back. As she and Callen approached his car, she couldn't help it.

"Kens, are you...crying?" asked Callen with concern. He mentally smacked himself for asking what could've easily been the stupidest question of the year. What did he _think _she was doing, sweating from her eyes?

Callen slowly put an arm across her shoulders, but removed it when it became clear that wasn't helping either of them.

"Hetty gave me the PTSD brief," he said. "We're all wondering what'll happen to Deeks after this. Kens, he'll pull through this. He's good at that."

"So was Jack," she said. Where had that come from?

Silence fell over them again, until Kensi tearfully continued, "Jack was a good marine, Callen. A really, really good marine. I thought he was Superman." She laughed ruefully. "But he didn't get through it. He was never the same. And he left."

"Deeks is...different." Callen said in a pathetic attempt at consolation. He brought it up a notch. "You see the similarities between them, and so do I, but there's differences, too. This is Deeks. He'll do anything for you."

And that was too much.

All the glances between her and Deeks over the past couple of years, all his kind gestures, all his stupid jokes to make her smile, all the times he bought her sweets, all the times he knew just when to call her, all the things he did to cheer her up even if they didn't work...

...and that kiss. That kiss that just completely said "he'll do anything for you."

Later, she would barely remember what she did next, but she would remember how she felt - overwhelmed, agonized, hurt, sorry, disoriented. She would remember what she wanted - to see Deeks again, to apologize for absolutely anything she'd ever done that had upset him, to tell him she'd do anything for him, too. She would remember where she wanted to be - back on that motorcycle, half a second before he kissed her.

She wouldn't remember that next moment in the parking lot.

But she'd remember with humiliating clarity what came right after.

Callen looked at her, stunned beyond words, as she pulled away. The shock only lasted a second.

"Kensi..." he said slowly, his forehead wrinkling in bewilderment.

She didn't say anything. She was flushed - again - and cheeks were wet with tears.

"You just..." Callen looked her in the eye with plain discomfort. "You just kissed me."

Reality hit her like a tidal wave, and she backed away quickly, bumping into the hood of Callen's car. She began stammering.

"Callen, I'm so sorry, I am so sorry," she said, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I can't believe - I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what I was -"

Callen ran a hand over his cropped hair. "It's all right," he said, but he didn't seem to mean it completely. "Just unexpected."

"I made you uncomfortable," she said. "Callen, I'm sorry. I was just, I mean, I don't like you, not like that. I was only remembering Deeks..." She stopped, feeling utterly directionless, like she'd just woken up in a different house.

Callen hesitated, then asked, "What about Deeks?"

She didn't give her an answer, but Callen figured he didn't really need one.

"Let's bring you back to your house," he said, walking over to the driver's side door. "You need some sleep, Kens."

She looked at him, momentarily afraid. Callen chuckled.

"I'm just dropping you off. I'm not suggesting anything."

She somehow managed to get herself into the passenger seat and was just securing her seatbelt when Callen's cellphone chirped. He fished it out of his jeans pocket.

"Yeah," he said into the phone, then listened for a little while. "All right, got it. Thanks, Hetty."

He ended the call and revved the engine. "Change of plans," he said. "We're going to the hospital. Deeks is awake."

* * *

**Please, please don't kill me. I promise I don't ship Callen/Kensi and I won't be throwing in some sort of counter-Densi romance. :P I just thought it'd be more realistic if Kensi did something completely out of character; when people are stressed or hurt, they can do some pretty crazy stuff. So there you have it: crazy stuff.**

**And, finally, Deeks is awake! Yay! The Densi angst/recovery/romantics can get started next chapter. Stay tuned, and, as always, let me know what you thought of this chapter.**

** Have a great day! :)**

** -V.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! I don't really feel like clogging up my story with an extra-long author's note today, so I'll skip this part and get right to the newest chapter. Enjoy! :)**

**-V.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't feel like thinking up a clever way to say I don't own this show, either. But I don't own it. So all you pesky copyright lawyers can scatter. :)**

**(No offense, copyright lawyers, if there are any that make up my reader demographic.) **

**(Oh wait. This is online fan-fiction. I don't have a reader demographic.)**

**(Never mind, then.)**

**(So much for a short A/N.)**

* * *

It was widely known that Kensi Blye hated hospitals. It was almost tiresome to hear about it these days. But right now, that was the only place in the world she wanted to be as Callen weaved through traffic.

Callen wasn't the most careful driver, but since Hetty had made him retake driver's ed. a couple of years ago, he'd at least tried to stay *mostly* within the speed limit. Today was different. After he'd gotten off the phone and told Kensi the news, she'd given him an almost desperate look that said, _"Get me there - now."_

So far, since pulling out of the diner parking lot, Callen had broken the limit three times on three different roads. He honked his way past pedestrians and ran a red light. He drove like Hetty had told him that Deeks was dying, instead of that he was awake, and all the while Kensi dug her fingernails into the armrest until her knuckles were drained of color.

They didn't speak a word the entire time. What was there to say?

Finally, finally, they arrived at the hospital. Callen did an almost ninety-degree turn into an empty space - the kind of perfect parking job that's only cosmically allowed to happen to you once. He hoped one of the passing teenagers had caught that with their phone cameras.

Kensi had unbuckled her seatbelt and thrown open the passenger side door before Callen even pulled his keys from the ignition. She was just a bit faster than he was, and Callen soon lost her in the bustle of the hospital halls. He made his own way to Deeks's room, figuring they'd all end up in the same place anyway.

Meanwhile, Kensi, having deemed the elevators too slow, was sprinting up flights of stairs to get to the right floor. At last, she made it, and found herself in a drab but familiar corridor. Her own room was just a few doors down, and she'd loitered here for a few hours after being released the other day.

Kensi was prepared to start scanning the placards on the doors when she found she didn't have to - Hetty, Eric, Nell, a nurse, and a handful of nameless OSP members were spilling out into the halls. All of them waited outside of one room, and Kensi knew instantly that that was where her partner was.

All of them brightened upon seeing her, and Hetty stepped forward.

"Ms. Blye," she said, gesturing to Deeks's door. "We thought he would like to see _you _first."

Kensi nodded, still unable to make enough sense of her emotions to speak. Nervousness, anticipation, worry, and joy were all warring inside of her, fighting for the dominate spot in her heart. She had no idea which one would win.

The nurse, a middle-aged woman with creamy dark skin, cautioned Kensi before letting her enter the room.

"Miss," she said. "He's been awake for almost half an hour, and he's still a little confused. We've assured him he's safe, but from what I understand, he's been through some trauma. Is that right?"

"Yes," Kensi said, finding her voice.

"All right," said the nurse, looking up to meet Kensi's eyes. "Please try not to startle him. He was very afraid when he first woke up, and though he's calmed down now, we don't want him to go into another panic."

Her words left no room for argument, but at the same time, they managed to be kind. She reminded Kensi (randomly, ridiculously) of her Kindergarten teacher from years and years ago. Gentle, but no-nonsense.

"You can go on in, now," the nurse said, and Kensi realized she'd just been standing there for a while. "If anything starts to happen with him - anything at all - there are nurses all over the place and there's a call button on the wall."

"Thanks," said Kensi.

As she put her hand on the doorknob, the nurse whispered to her, "And if you're who I think you are, he's been asking for you."

She gave Kensi a wink before walking briskly off to another room.

Kensi took a deep breath, feeling the stares of her co-workers on her back. Callen had arrived behind her; she could hear him having a hushed conversation with Nell and Eric.

She'd been in such a hurry to get here, but now that she was at the door, she wasn't sure she was quite ready for what she might face inside. Would she be able to see the changes in him right away? With Jack, it hadn't taken long at all. He'd come home in September, and by Christmas, it was over.

She shook her head. Now was not the time. She refused to sit out here like a coward just because she was afraid Deeks might be different.

_What kind of partner are you? _she chided herself. _If this had happened to you, Deeks would've probably fought his way in to see you while you were still in surgery. _

This wasn't about Kensi, this was about Deeks and how he was hurt. If the week's events had changed him, it was for her to help him through, not the other way around. No, this was a burden they'd bear together - equally - because that was what she'd unofficially signed up to do when they became partners.

Again her thoughts wandered to that kiss. It occurred to her that with all that trauma, Deeks might not even remember it. So what did it mean, then?

The answer was simple, and Kensi knew it right away. It meant she'd help him that much more.

That was what you did when you loved someone.

* * *

The next thing she knew, Kensi was inside of his room, shutting the door behind her. She thought Deeks might've fallen asleep again, but his eyes shot open at the sound of the lock clicking into place.

"Hey," she murmured, barely able to hear her own words.

Deeks seemed melt with relief. There was a gauze pad on his cheek, held fast with medical tape, and cuts flecked his lips. A bruise peered out from under his blonde fringe. Everything about him screamed with exhaustion, but sleeping was knocked off of his priority list as soon as he saw his partner.

Before she could get in a second word, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and then, to Kensi's shock, tried to stand.

"Deeks!" she said urgently, rushing over to support him. She hooked her arms under his. "What are you-"

And suddenly it was the motorcycle moment all over again - his hands lightly on her neck, his lips on hers. Though this time, he tasted a bit more like blood and a bit less like Deeks. It was all the same to Kensi, to both of them; a kiss was a kiss, and _this _was a kiss.

Looks like he hadn't forgotten after all.

* * *

When they parted, Kensi had to wipe a tear off of his stubbly cheek. Deeks was obviously worn out even just from a few moments of standing, so she helped lower him back onto his bed. He only pulled her down with him, mustering another bit of strength he didn't think he had and bringing her to rest at his side. She was surprised at first, but it didn't take her long to find a comfortable position between his arm and his chest.

"Deeks-" she began again, but he interrupted her.

"Shh," he said. He took a few long, pained breaths. Kensi, with her head just above his heart, could feel his rapid pulse as it resonated through his body.

After a moment of regaining his composure, he said softly, "Okay."

But Kensi wasn't really sure what it was she wanted to say. She'd planned on such a different scenario than this that any conversation she might've rehearsed was thrown out the window.

Lamely, she said, "Some kiss."

"Agreed," said Deeks, his breath brushing the top of her head.

"Why didn't we do that before?"

"Because I'm stupid."

"Come on, Deeks. It's my fault, too."

"Fine. We're both stupid."

Another silence grew and expanded, but they didn't mind. Being there with one another was enough for them right now. It seemed like a cliche, but truth be told, Kensi had never quite appreciated life like she was now. She wished she could go back to all of those times when she'd punched Deeks in the arm, and she wished she could tell herself that one day there would be nothing more miraculous than to feel that arm around her waist.

He was alive.

By all accounts, he shouldn't be, but here he was.

"Deeks?" she said.

"Mm."

"Don't do that again."

"What, kiss you? I thought you liked that, Fern."

"I meant almost die. Don't almost die again."

"All right," he agreed wearily, his sentence interrupted by a yawn. "But only because I'm more afraid of you."

Just then, it felt like everything was returning to normal, but they both knew better. Kensi had her suspicions that this wouldn't last much longer, but for their sakes, she shoved those premonitions aside and enjoyed the moment.

A time like this might not come for a while.

Deeks, too, knew it was coming. He could feel shadows of painful recollection emerging in the back of his head, memories that would haunt him for a very long time. His mouth was still sore from the torture and his throat still raspy from screaming. Those would heal, but what was most horrifying of all was the torture he knew was yet to come.

It was there.

He shook it off, knowing it would be back, and hugged Kensi closer to him. At least he knew that she would be his eyes when the darkness finally came.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it! I'll be updating as soon as I can, which shouldn't be longer than a couple of days if all goes right. If I feel really ambitious, I might even be able to turn out a chapter tomorrow! :) **

**A couple of you really didn't approve of the Kensi/Callen kiss in the last chapter. Again, I don't ship them together at all, and i'm not going to be building on it (though Kensi might mention it once if the story calls for it). Guys, try to understand that I go where the story takes me, and last chapter, I thought a Kensi/Callen kiss would be a good twist. Sorry if you didn't like it, but I can't please everyone, you know. :) **

**Anyway, have a great day and thanks for reading! **

** -V.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I'm sorry it's taken me a while to update. School started and - visualize an avalanche if you may - I was buried. ****But now I'm here, and I have a new chapter for you! I hope you enjoy it. As always, thank you so much for reading my story, and kindly review if you've got the time.**

**Also, did you guys here that the director of NCIS:LA said that Kensi and Deeks would be split up as partners mid-season?! ****What?!**** I mean, it's got to be temporary, but still! o_o**

**Also, a **_**very important announcement (read this, s'il vous plaît!): The name of the story is being changed from "Over Again" to "Uncharted Waters" because I just realized I also have a different NCIS: LA piece called "Good Again" and it's starting to confuse me. **__**(To the point where I actually had to check my profile yesterday because I couldn't remember the title of this story.) This will be changed at the next update to prevent any unnecessary confusion and loss of readership. Thank you! :)**_

** -V.**

* * *

It was another week and a half before Deeks was tentatively released from the hospital.

_Tentatively _meaning they gave him so many painkillers, so many strict instructions, and so many future check-ups that it was kind of like he'd never left the hospital at all.

But he was in his apartment, so that was a bonus. He didn't have to spend all day inhaling the scents of industrial cleaner, and he might actually get a square meal that didn't look like it'd just been defrosted after ten thousand years incased in an ice block under Antarctica.

Though that fact was debatable, since Kensi was cooking for him.

"I know how to make toast," she'd warned him during the car ride from the hospital to Deeks's apartment. "And not much else."

"Toast is good. I like toast," he'd said, even though the last thing he wanted to do was eat it for three meals a day. "How about Twinkies? Can we have Twinkies, princess?"

"_I _can have Twinkies. _You _can have that healthy crap like the doctors said."

"Toast is healthy?"

"Oh, shut up, Deeks."

It'd been like this for the past few days - almost as if they'd returned to their pre-Sidorov selves; and yet, it always seemed as if that last switch that made everything fit was just out of their reach. They were _thisclose _to being the Kensi and Deeks that they'd wanted to be, but all it took was seeing Deeks take his painkillers to remind her that they _weren't _the same.

So they'd have to adjust.

* * *

The first few of days after Deeks's release from the hospital, they did pretty well. Kensi crashed on the couch in his living room, and Deeks of course slept in his own somehow, in their infamous routine of miscommunication, put off talking about the kisses.

Neither of them as sure why this was. It wasn't like they were in denial that it had happened or anything like that - on the contrary, it was in the forefront of both of their minds. Talking about it could lead them into uncharted waters.

What was there to be afraid of? Uncharted waters didn't sound so bad; in fact, hardly anything _but _good could come from finally discussing the ever-complex status of their partnership. But with everything that had happened, the relationship of the "old" Kensi and Deeks seemed so familiar, appealing, comforting. Familiarity, even if it was inferior to what they might've become, was something they both needed.

And so their attempts to talk about the kisses failed, familiarity won, and their possible romantic relationship became something of an opportunity cost.

It was more, Deeks thought, than he could take.

He'd taken to sleeping less and less, even with the painkillers. Part of that was because he liked the fact that his partner was staying over to care for him, and so they would stay up late at night to talk (except, as we've already established, about the subject of the kisses).

Another reason that he'd begun forgoing sleep was that he had started to develop a rather humiliating fear of the dark.

The absolute abscence of light left room for Deeks's mind to wander, and that had become an unpleasant thing. Every little sound seemed to intensify a thousand times. He found himself becoming jumpy at the slightest movement. Vulnerability and an unshakeable fear overwhelmed him as he would lay in his bed, just waiting for one of Sidorov's men to emerge with their awful metal tools that they'd...

That was where he'd always lost it, completely burying himself under the top sheet of his bedding and biting hard on the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't cry out. Sometimes, he would accidentally reawaken one of the cuts or sores in his mouth, the grim souvenirs of his torture that he hadn't let heal. The taste of a few tiny drops of blood would overwhelm his senses, and suddenly he'd be there, back in that room, tied to that chair and fighting for his life. Waiting for some familiar face to burst in and set him free. Wondering what would happen if nobody came.

He hated it, feeling so much like a child in fear of the monsters in his closet.

But Deeks's monsters, they were real, or had been. Physically, the ordeal was over - mentally, it seemed like he was still stuck in the middle.

* * *

Kensi caught on soon enough. Night after night, Deeks put off going to sleep until he could barely keep his eyes open, and even then, he dragged his feet. He'd make up some excuse in light humor - "Wouldn't want to miss the late-night reruns of _Top Model_," - but Kensi could always see right through him.

One night, she checked on him. She cracked his bedroom door open, sending a heavenly stream of hallway light shooting across the carpet. Deeks's bed was situated in one corner, and she could see a Deeks-sized lump huddled underneath the covers. Moments later, a pair of weary blue eyes and a mess of shaggy hair poked out from underneath the hem.

"Kens?" he murmured, and by the nervous energy in his voice, she knew he hadn't been sleeping at all. Kensi pushed the door open wider.

"Hey," she said, leaning against the doorframe and folding her arms across her chest. The light from the hallway backlit her face. "You still awake?"

"Mm."

"Can't sleep?"

"Mm."

"Mind if I come in?"

"Mm."

Taking that as an approval, she stepped over the threshold, leaving the door open behind her and the lovely light still coming in. She came to sit cautiously on the edge of his bed - she was aware that there really weren't any more boundaries between them, not after those kisses, but it made her feel safe to pretend like they still existed.

"So you, uh, you couldn't sleep, either?" Deeks asked, emerging from the blankets a little further. He looked her in the eyes; he seemed absolutely exhausted, as if he'd just run a marathon.

"Guess not," Kensi said with a shrug.

"So you came to bunk up with the Jungle Cat?" he raised his eyebrows at her, and she had to admit, the warm covers and Deeks's white t-shirt seemed like two of the most comforting things in the world. But she shook her head.

"Deeks," she said, staring him down to let him know she needed him to be serious. "Look, I need to...I mean, it's..." She ran a hand through her hair. "How're you doing?"

He stared back blankly.

"With all this," she said. "How're you doing with all this?"

Deeks sighed softly, lowering his eyes almost in shame. There was no use in pretending he was okay. "I'll be fine," he told her, though he didn't believe it himself. "I just need to forget."

She felt an overwhelming amount of sympathy for him then, her poor partner lying there, unable to shake the memories of those long hours in Sidorov's captivity. Here he was, back home, and yet still in that warehouse. She wondered if that was what it was like for Jack - the whole time they were together after his return, was part of him still downrange? Was the man who was holding her hand more of a lifeless shell than a full person, his spirit still patrolling bases a few thousand miles away?

Kensi shuddered. Deeks, mistaking her for shivering, pulled aside the covers invitingly.

"You're cold," he said. Kensi didn't correct him.

They lay there for the rest of the night, with each of them fading in and out of sleep. Between dreams, Kensi would lie awake. Deeks was huddled next to her on his side, her back pressed against his chest, but despite the close proximity, it seemed as if they were worlds apart.

* * *

The next morning was one of the most difficult. It was a week after Deeks had come home from the hospital, and he and Kensi were sitting at the kitchen table in his apartment. One of Deeks's neighbors, a sweet enough old lady named Mrs. Irvington, had stopped by to see him. Of course, she had no idea (and never would) of what exactly had happened to Deeks.

"Monty was awful loud when you left, you know," Mrs. Irvington was saying, setting down the cup of tea that Deeks had made for her. "Your dog-sitter must've come in late, because he was howling up a storm for a long time."

"Sorry about that," Deeks said. "It was an unexpected leave."

"Oh, that's all right," said Mrs. Irvington with a wave of her feeble hand. "It's all done now, no harm done. Now then, Miss...Blye, wasn't it?" She turned her attention to Kensi.

"Yes."

"You're taking care of Marty after his accident, isn't that what you said?"

"That's right, Mrs. Irvington."

"Oh, please - Betsy."

"Okay then, Betsy." Kensi offered her a small smile. "I'm a friend of De-Marty's from work, and I'm going to make sure he doesn't do something stupid like wash his painkillers down with a beer." She shot Deeks a pointed look.

"It was one time," Deeks said defensively with an impish grin. "And I learned my lesson. Those were some _groovy _dreams."

Kensi almost choked on her sip of water, producing a laugh-snort hybrid that make Deeks's smile grow larger.

"I'll leave you two be," said Mrs. Irvington, finishing her tea and rising from her chair. "Marty, it was so nice to see you home and well."

"I'll walk you to the door," Deeks offered. He guided the old lady out of the kitchen and over to the cramped entry hall.

"I hope I'll see you and your friend again soon," she said, and winked at him. "She's a cutie, that one."

"She is," Deeks agreed with a nod. "See you, Mrs. Irvington."

His neighbor opened the door, walked out, and let the door shut on its own behind her. It closed with a much harsher slam than she'd expected, but with not much more than a startle, she continued down the row to her own apartment. Her fragile feet barely made a noise on the carpeted corridor floor.

But on the other side, that slam had sent a course of panic ripping through Deeks's head. He clutched his temple and sank to the floor, the raised rhythm of his pulse becoming unbearably loud. Voices - secretive murmurs - seemed to come from all around him, despite the fact that he and Kensi were the only ones in the apartment now.

Next came the actual pain: the horrible hammering in his mouth that caused him to yell in shock. It seemed so surreal. This couldn't be happening again. It couldn't. This was his house, not Sidorov's hideout.

Kensi, alerted by his cry, rushed out of the kitchen and over to the entryway.

"Deeks!" she said with alarm, kneeling by his side and clutching his hand. Deeks pulled it away and used it to cover his mouth. He was shaking his head vehemently.

"No, no..." he moaned. "Stop."

He head the shrill voice of an electric drill and screamed in protest. This was supposed to be over - it had ended more than two weeks ago. Had it been a dream, his rescue? Was he still a prisoner after all?

"Deeks, stay with me," said Kensi. She was already dialing Hetty on her cellphone, her fingers fumbling over one another as she scrolled down her contacts list.

As it rang, she kept saying things to her partner as tears rolled down his face. She felt a lot like crying herself. "You're going to be all right, Deeks. Block it out. It's not there. Come on, Hetty, come on..."

Finally, Hetty answered, and Kensi explained the situation as quickly as she could. Her words came out mangled and laced with distress, but Hetty didn't need to hear anything twice.

"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna are on their way," she told Kensi. "Stay with him, Miss Blye."

Kensi somehow managed to shut off of her phone. She distinctly remembered the clatter it made as her shaking hands dropped it to the floor. With nothing else to do, she sat beside Deeks, getting as close as she dared to his tensed frame. She knew from experience that touching him might not be a good idea, not during this phase.

This was a flashback, plain as day. She'd watched many of Jack's, trying to comfort him, but ultimately she'd had to back off. Sometimes it just wasn't safe for her to be too close.

From where Kensi was sitting, it took far too long for Callen and Sam to arrive, though they came as fast as they could.

She barely remembered those next few minutes - they were blurry, unfocused, like looking through someone else's glasses. She did recall Sam guiding her over to the the couch in the living room, assuring her that Deeks would be fine soon. She remembered the tears on her own face.

Everything began to become sharper, however, after about fifteen minutes had passed. Deeks's shouting petered out, and from where Callen was crouching near him, the older agent saw him visibly relax. It was another few minutes before his eyes slowly opened, and he became hyperaware of everything around him. His fatigue had intensified significantly.

Then, in a confused and pitifully small voice, he called, "Kensi?"

He was out.

She wasted no time in springing from the couch and going over to him, settling herself shoulder-to-shoulder against her partner. He stiffened a little at the contact, but with time, he put an arm around her shoulders and leaned his head against hers.

"That was the worst thing I think I've ever gone through," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Same here."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," she answered, shifting and burying her face into his chest. "No, you didn't, Deeks."

He released a long breath of relief. "Hey, Kens?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have my meds now?"

"Yeah. I need a beer, anyway."

She slowly arose and made her way to the kitchen.

"Two beers," Deeks called after her weakly.

"Dream on, golden boy," she called back.

Really, though, she would've gotten him anything he wanted, now that he was with her again.

* * *

That was the first flash, and possibly the worst. Others would be equal in caliber, but it was that initial episode that introduced Deeks to the fact that none of his pain - none of it - had ended with his rescue.

On the contrary, the real pain was here at home.

* * *

**Well, that's not a very happy note to end it on! o_o In my defense, it's way too late to be writing, and I'm not that good at writing happy-cheery-sunshine stuff at this hour. **

**I'd also like to credit my father for inspiring the "beer and painkillers" bit. He actually did that once, took some painkillers for a broken bone and then had a beer. We'd gone to a Disney park that day, and that night, he dreamt that he was stuck in the Small World ride, listening to that awful song for hours and hours and hours...**

**So don't mix meds and alcohol. That sounds like torture.**

**Last request of the night: I've never written PTSD before, so if you have any knowledge on that, all resources are very much appreciated! And also, please point out anything you think I'm doing wrong. Thanks so much!**

**Anyway, have a great day and keep an eye out for the next update, which will hopefully be very soon! :)**

**-V.**


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